


Obviously

by tamerofdarkstars



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Arthur is ready to throw down, Canon Compliant, Dom Cobb Being an Asshole, Eavesdropping, M/M, Missing Scene, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 06:02:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20421110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamerofdarkstars/pseuds/tamerofdarkstars
Summary: Missing scene during the Inception Job in which Arthur tries to talk sense into Cobb and Eames totally doesn't overhear anything.





	Obviously

**Author's Note:**

> the movie may have come out nine years ago but i have never once stopped being trash for dream husbands

He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, really, but in his defense, he’d needed his phone. Eames crept back through the darkened warehouse and snatched his phone from where he’d left it, perched precariously on a massive stack of papers on the table Ariadne had claimed.

“Gotcha,” he whispered, tapping at the screen of his phone and watching it light up to greet him.

He’d just turned to go, mind already calculating exactly how tipsy he could get tonight and not impact his work in the morning when he spotted the light spilling across the floor from the curtained off area near the PASIV.

Arthur then, the bloody workaholic. Eames frowned, pretending the prickling sensation on the back of his neck was irritation rather than concern and headed for the light, fully intending on dragging Arthur out by the collar if he had to in order to force the idiot to get some sleep when he heard the low murmur of voices.

Ah. Not alone.

Well, bugger that, then. The last person Eames felt like chatting with right now was Dominic Cobb. He turned once again towards the door.

“--not going to tell him?” Arthur snapped.

Eames paused, ears pricking up. He was intimately familiar with many of Arthur’s voices, particularly of the frustrated variety, and this particular voice was tense and low and quietly livid.

“It is need-to-know, Arthur, and Eames doesn’t,” Dom began, voice tired, but before Eames even had a chance to decide if he was going to be offended or not, Arthur cut in.

“Need-to-know? He is taking a major risk, working this job with us, and you’re telling me he doesn’t _need__-__to__-__know_?”

Eames raised an eyebrow at the curtain. He could not conjure up a time in recent memory that he’d heard Arthur sound so coldly furious, least of all at Dom. Arthur had been standing just behind Dom’s shoulder now for years, a constant presence, an unwavering support. Eames hadn’t been sure Arthur’d even remembered how to be pissed off at Dom.

“You need to tell them. Both of them,” Arthur said. “Eames and Ariadne.”

“No,” Dom said and Arthur made a low frustrated noise.

“If you don’t, I will.”

Dom sighed and beneath the curtain, the shadows shifted. “She’s not going to like that, Arthur,” he said quietly.

“Mal is _dead_,” Arthur snapped and Eames felt the sudden surge of emotion in Arthur’s words like he’d been physically slapped in the face. “She doesn’t like anything, Dom. Not anymore.”

“How dare you--” Dom began, voice dangerous but Arthur interrupted him again.

“I am not,” he said, voice brooking no argument, “letting Eames walk into this without knowing exactly what he’s walking into. He should get the choice to walk away.”

Dom scoffed, derisive, dismissive. “If I didn’t know you better, Arthur, I’d say it sounded like you cared about him.”

“Of _course_ I care about him,” Arthur hissed and Eames’ entire body warmed from the inside out. He stared at the curtain, mouth open, cell phone silent and forgotten. He stuck his hand in his pocket and gripped his totem, turning it over and over between his fingers. “I don’t trust many people, Dom, and since I swore to help you get your kids back, that number has seriously dwindled. I don’t have a choice here – I'm going under with you no matter what. But you don’t get to drag Eames down too without giving him the chance to walk away.”

“I gave him the chance,” Dom protested. “In Mombasa.”

“Skirting around the facts is not giving him a chance,” Arthur said and he must have turned away, crossing the little area, because the curtain moved a bit, rippling and scattering the lamplight. “It’s bad enough you dragged Eames and Yusuf into this, but at least they’re professionals. Ariadne is practically a child, Dom. What were you thinking?”

“She’s brilliant,” Dom said.

“So was I,” Arthur replied.

There was a long beat of silence that Eames could practically feel as it weighed down the air around them.

“Arthur...” Dom said finally, sounding like all the fight had been leeched from his lungs at once.

“Don’t,” Arthur said, voice clipped, heavy with exhaustion, and Eames could just picture the slump to his shoulders, the tightness at the turned down corners of his mouth. He pressed his lips together, fingers curling around his phone and squeezing as he tried to rein in his fury. He wanted to storm in there, throw back the curtain and drag Arthur far far away, away from Dom Cobb and his tunnel vision, away from this whole mess.Someplace where Eames wouldn’t find it so damn hard to tease a smile out of him.

It was not exactly an unfamiliar want. He’d taken this job for one reason and that reason sure as hell hadn’t been Dom Cobb’s crusade or the temptation of pulling off the impossible.

Eames forced himself to take a deep, steadying breath as Arthur spoke again, voice quiet.

“Either you tell him tomorrow or I will, Dom. Your choice.”

Eames took a step backwards, then another. They couldn’t find him here, standing just beyond their little pool of light, listening to them argue. Not after that conversation. Arthur would shut down beyond reach if he knew Eames had overheard even a single word.

_Of **course** I care about him._

The words were hot, burning in the back of his mind as they beat a tattoo against the inside of his skull, and despite it all, Eames couldn’t help but grin, a small private little smile just for himself, here in the dark. He crept back through the warehouse, pocketing his phone, and slipped out the door and into the milky grey of the pre-dawn city stillness.

It didn’t matter what Arthur was going to tell him tomorrow. Arthur wasn’t going to walk away from this job, which meant neither was Eames. He always did like a challenge, after all.

Besides. Surely whatever secret Dom was keeping couldn’t be _that_ bad.


End file.
